


Not A Drop of Blood

by rosierey



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Blasphemy, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:47:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27477520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosierey/pseuds/rosierey
Summary: Glimpses of when they began.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 6
Kudos: 158





	Not A Drop of Blood

They've been here before. Nicolo's back against the wall, Yusuf's chest pressed against his so hard he can feel his heartbeat against his. It had been different before: hot sand under Yusuf's knees either side of the knights chest, trapping his struggling arms against the earth as he strangles the life from him for the fourth time that night. They watched each other die and die again until they realised it was pointless, then they did it a few more times because what else were they supposed to do on a battlefield surrounded by their fellow dead?

Before that night Yusuf hadn't known true fear or rage but this impossible man in front of him, wild-eyed and covered in his- their- blood, had awoken it like a spark to kindling. By noon on the second day it was snuffed out when they awoke in a pit of dead piled together. Yusuf awoke with a start, gagged on the rancid smell of flesh cooking in the sun, and shit and piss and blood. Bodies are so heavy when they're dead, so heavy, but he struggled free and sat on the chest of a man, friend or foe he couldn't tell.

A few feet away the Christian sat too, hugging his chest over the tunic of white and red (more red now), those haunted glassy eyes watching every second of his struggle to the surface. They watched each other, waiting, two feral beasts trapped together. Yusuf realised the man was shivering though there was a sheen of sweat on his brow, he looked down and realised his hands were shaking too. Dried blood and worse caked his nailbeds and palms, there had been a pale scare on the ball of his hand from building a chair for his grandmother. It was gone. When he looked up again the Christian has closed his eyes, tear tracks mark his hollow cheekbones as he whispered urgently in a language Joe didn't know.

And so the Christian became Nicolo, and the language, Italian.

-

Yusuf missed prayer. Not the act of it perhaps but what it had meant back then; kneeling with his family and friends to worship something good, something important that would give their journey through life, and then death, meaning. a comforting thought. In the weeks after climbing out of that pit time had fallen away into night and sweltering day as the two men had tried to find some point, some direction. The truth was their purpose had been met in the battle; to die bravely and as warriors. Then they hadn't.

So what next? Next had been walking, a lot of walking. After a while Yusuf tried to make conversation with the few phrases he had picked up, always a fast learner and even faster to make friends. Nicolo had given his name and not much else so for a long time it was a one sided conversation. Only at night did Yusuf hear him speak, those furtive whispers over the crackle of fire, prayers turned to pleas undercover of darkness.

Nicolo prayed even when they died of starvation. When bandits came and slit their throats and stole what little they had accumulated. Months of pain and belly-aching hunger, he never once let up. He prayed still when they found food and shelter, found work, but the frenzy of it lessened to a soft murmur from his room in the morning and over meal. One night Joe had and felt hollow the instant his knees touched the carpet... He didn't try again after that.

-

Like the tide drawn to the shore they hadn't parted ways since they met, and neither showing any inclination to. Fear, at first, kept them together. There was comfort in each others company, knowing they were not alone in their strangeness.

It had started with Nicolo's eyes, the colour of which Joe had never seen before so glassy and bright surrounded by dark, bruised skin. He had found himself watching them, looking away the instant they turned their gaze his way. Staying together meant learning to be together. They taught each other their tongues until one can switch between the two without the other batting an eyelid but- where Yusuf was adept- Nicolo was slower. The broken Arabic Nicolo spoke never failed to make Yusuf laugh and Nicolo scowl. Italian had felt strange, a little wrong in Yusuf's mouth at first; like food stuck in his teeth, trying to move his tongue all wrong to get it out. When Nicolo spoke it, though, it sounded magical, passionate as he gestured at Yusuf (in frustration or delight depending on the day). He could watch him talk for hours.

Eventually Arabic, Italian, even English and Germanic, flow from both of their mouths. In a port city it helped to speak more than the native tongue, made it easier to barter and trade with ships that passed through. Nicolo would walk through the markets always looking carefully at each vendors good, exchanging words with them like he enjoyed it. Yusuf liked to watch that too, a few steps behind carrying whatever they'd traded to eat and listen and watch. Always watch.

-

Then Nicolo shaved his beard. It had been a thinner, patchier beard than Yusuf's for which he had been slightly smug about for some reason. He returned from the farm he'd been attending to, to find Nicolo bent over a bowl of water tinted pink with blood dripping from his chin. Yusuf laughed and Nicolo glared, throwing the cloth at him.

"Not helping, Yusuf."

"Would you like some help, Nico?" Yusuf asked sweetly just so Nicolo would cast his withering gaze toward him again. He picked up the cloth and dusted it off, going to Nicolo's side and taking the blade from his hand. The ease at which the knife was given and taken warmed Joe's heart.

"You are lucky, could have made quite a state of that face," Yusuf tutted, turning Nicolo's chin this way and that to look at the myriad smears of blood on his cheek and neck. Nicolo huffed and rolled his eyes but let Yusuf move him to lean against the table with the bowl by his hip. Most of his left side was done, stubble left in the apex of his jaw and curve of his lip that Yusuf smoothly took care of after wetting the knife. He carefully attended to the other cheek, moving Nicolo's head with his other hand, all too aware of his thighs pressed against his. In battle he had been a larger man, then wasted away in the ensuing months to skin and bone. After settling he had built it back on into fatty muscle from working on the docks. All the while his eyes had stayed the same, sunken and bright.

"You are... quite good at this," Nicolo muttered in English as Yusuf takes a long strip of hair from his upper lip with the ease one might have skinning an apple. They tested each other sometimes, switching between languages to try and trip the other up. It never worked on Yusuf.

"I would do this for some of my brothers," Yusuf explained absently. Faces flashed through his mind in a blur of bittersweet memory. The sting of remembering was staring to fade and he wasn't sure if it was a relief or frightening. "I had the steadiest hand."

Yusuf's hand framed the base of his neck, thumb in the hollow on his collarbone. "I see. Are you-" Nicolo stopped as Yusuf set the blade against his Adam's apple, chin pushed back to expose the elegant line of his throat. They stopped and looked each other in the eye. Yusuf saw the feral, blood stained Crusader looking back at him for a moment but then he settled back into Nicolo, shoulders easing and eyelids drooping in thrilling supplication. Yusuf swallowed and pressed the knife at an angle, sliding it up the curve of Nicolo's throat to his chin. Not a drop of blood was spilled. Nicolo let out a heavy breath, blinking at him as Yusuf ran his hand up from his collar to his jaw watching how his thumb and fingers fit under the hinges.

"Yusuf." Nicolo murmured his name so quietly, so intensely. His eyes, the tide, met his eyes, the shore. Carefully, as he would a spooked horse, so carefully he leaned up and in until the wet bow of Nicolo's lip met his. He felt him flinch, lip trembling on an unspoken word, and for a moment Yusuf was sure he had made a mistake. Then Nicolo exhaled and his mouth pressed against Yusuf's with an unmistakable deliberateness. Yusuf sighed too, fingers flexing against Nicolo's throat and that jolted the man again, breaking the kiss. They shared several breaths, Yusuf left waiting on a knife's edge. Suddenly Nicolo grabbed two fists full of Yusuf's shirt and shoved him back making the two of them stagger into a wall.

Yusuf expected a punch but got a kiss, just as bruising, as if Nicolo were trying to bite his mouth. Whatever kind of restraint Nicolo had had snapped in two and he growled, biting Yusuf's bottom lip hard. Yusuf gasped, arcing away from the cold stone but Nicolo boxed him in, catching his wrist and dragging it onto the stone above their heads, pinning him there. Nicolo moaned into his mouth and Yusuf slid his tongue inside against Nicolo's making the man shudder out an incoherent noise. Fingers clawed at the back of his neck, drawing him in, teeth scrapping, lips catching on stubble and beard.

There was no finesse to it, only urgent unrelenting want the likes of which he hadn't felt in his life. When Yusuf finally yanked Nicolo's body into his he could feel the hot, hard line of him through his linen. Nicolo cried out, grip tightening painfully on Yusuf's wrist but it was worth it to feel him buck against him like a rutting animal. Once he started he couldn't seem to stop, Nicolo kept grinding and gasping, Yusuf tasted blood and olives. He wished he could watch, take a seat across the room and see just how depraved and beautiful the man must look.

It had been years for both of them. It didn't last long at all but Yusuf came harder than he had in his life, shuddering and jerking against Nicolo who realised what was happening with a shocked gasp. His spine curved, mouth opened wide and wet against Yusuf's in a silent cry as he started coming too. Yusuf felt light-headed as Nicolo sagged against him. He wasn't taller than Yusuf but he was bigger, shoulders bowing over his. They slowly slid down the wall unable to hold each others weight and Nicolo ended up on his knees with Yusuf's braced either side of them.

Their heavy breaths echoed loudly in the quiet house, water dripped from the edge of the blade onto the table. Nicolo released Yusuf's wrist and his arm dropped heavily to the ground. Yusuf pressed his palm against the stone floor, cooling his burning skin. Finally, Nicolo lifted his head and Yusuf's blood ran cold.

"Nicolo-"

Nicolo groaned then hissed. "No." He scrambled to his feet, shoving Yusuf back and crossing the room in a flash. Yusuf caught himself as he fell back, staring after Nicolo.

"Nicolo, please."

"Don't say anything for a-" Nicolo held out his palm like he was keeping Joe at bay even as he stayed frozen, knelt on the floor. He repeated, "don't say thing for a..." Then trailed off. Yusuf felt like he couldn't breath watching Nicolo's expression crumble. Sluggishly Nicolo turned and walked away into his room, closing the door gently behind him. Somehow that felt worse than if he had slammed it. Yusuf closed his eyes, and pressed his palms into them painfully. He missed the comfort of prayer.

-

There was a cove where the children would go and play by the shore when the midday sun had passed and the water was warm. Mothers sat by the edge and washed their laundry talking among themselves while the children screamed and splashed around chasing fish. Nicolo bought him here not long after they arrived, grinning at Yusuf like he'd found a fortune for them not a tiny stone-filled bay. That could be where he fell in love, perhaps.

Perhaps that was why he came here after Nicolo closed the door on him, dragging himself off of the floor and out of the house. The sun was low in the sky when he reached it and there wasn't a soul in sight to see him strip down and wade into the water until he could dip below the surface and wash the day away, wash the evidence from his skin. After, he sat in the shallows and listened to the sea shift softly around him, to the birds calling noisily further out to sea. He wondered how far he could swim before he'd be washed away, how many times would he drown? What would it feel like? He'd choked to death on his own blood it couldn't be any worse than that surely? Of the many thousands of ways humanity had devised to die, Yusuf supposed he'd only experience a sliver of them in his time, most by the hands of a man he... The man who he loved.

To fall in love, his mother had said once, is to be human. To stay in love is a blessing and a curse. Yusuf shook his head to himself and looked into the water between his knees, glassy and blue. Already he felt drawn to home, to go back and sit at Nicolo's door like a dog. The worst of it was the hurt he saw of Nicolo's face, the fear. It had been years since he saw that on the man's face and all it took to bring it back was Yusuf's touch.

-

Nicolo's knees hurt. Stone was not kind to kneel on. At home they had had matts and cushions, then the sand to brace him in the night. There was his pillow on the bed but he couldn't use it, he needed to feel the ache so he didn't feel everything else. He looked up at the small portrait of the crucifixion on the windowsill, Jesus' eyes cast toward the heavens and his bare chest... a fresh wave of guilt overcame him and Nicolo let out a pained groan. He closed his eyes tried to pray again, call out to God but all he could see and hear was YusufYusufYusuf.

His hand still burned where he had held him, like he had branded his palm with a permanency no one else could anymore, utterly invulnerable to anything except for him. He wished there were marks, evidence of his lust, there should be bruises on his hips and blood in mouth but it was all gone. All he tasted was bile (he wished he still tasted Yusuf). God knows he tried not to, for so long- tried to keep his distance and kept his eyes from wandering but he always gave in, just as he knew Yusuf did. He had felt him constantly, for years, everywhere and it wore him down until- until-

His breath stuttered as he felt that familiar, frightening heat coil in his gut where his trousers were still stained. The back of his neck started to burn and he realised he was holding his cross so tightly the chain was digging into his skin. Even there, on his knees grovelling, those things he felt for Yusuf still burned away inside him. Yusuf's beauty struck him at the most inconvenient times, filled him with longing until he was choking on it, couldn't breathe. Sunlight on his smooth skin, his eyes practically sparkling even at his most exhausted, that lopsided smile he'd send Nicolo's way from across a crowded market. And his hands, God help him, his hands...

Hesitantly Nicolo reached into the folds of his trousers and pressed his palm where he was painfully hard once again. He glanced at the painting then quickly away, skin turning feverish as he pushed the heel of his palm against his cock greedily. Everywhere he looked he felt open, weighed down by guilt, so he closed his eyes and saw- Yusuf. That first careful kiss that cracked him open like an egg, Yusuf's soft eyes before it that didn't hold only desire in them but adoration. Love.

His hips lifted into his hand and he whimpered, stifling it quickly in the palm of his hand. The chain necklace caught in his fingers and dug the edges of the cross into his lips. He pressed it harder, echoing the bite of Joe's teeth and suddenly he spilled over his palm in hot urgent pulses. It made him so dizzy he collapsed forward catching himself on his forearm and hiding his face against the inside of his elbow to muffle his sob. When he finally caught his breath he extracted his hand and wiped the come on his leg, the trousers were ruined anyway.

As the post-orgasm haze faded Nicolo realised something. It couldn't be all wrong, it couldn't be when it felt so good and real, when Yusuf was the only reason he was sane. He made him smile, made him laugh and made his so mad some days he felt he might retrieve his broadsword from underneath his bed. Then Yusuf would smile, his eyes would crinkle in the corners, and Nicolo would melt. Adoration, awful adoration had consumed him. Joe was so beautiful, so special, given to him by some strange turn of fate why shouldn't he have him?

When feeling returned to his legs, Nicolo stood and undressed, those clothes stained with sweat and sex. He went out to the well and washed them in the basin with less care than he usually would, but he was tired and preoccupied. They hung through the window on a line Joe put up from the lintel to the tree in the yard, Nicolo took a seat at the table outside the door and watched them billow in the breeze. As the sun started to fade he lit the lamps, more for Yusuf than for him, to signal him to come home already. When the dark crawled across the sky and into the house he found himself a blanket and the last of the rum he traded in secret from a merchant.

The stars had flickered into life when Joe returned. The front door creaked and Nicolo closed his eyes in relief. He opened them again when Yusuf's footstep drew near, and looked up at him in the doorway. In the shadows cast by the lamplight his eyes were black and full of depth, Nicolo could fall into them.

"Supper?" Yusuf asked dryly, nodding to the bottle by Nicolo's feet.

"Thought I'd cook for a change," Nicolo replied with a half-smile, his pulse fluttered when Yusuf returned it cautiously. All too quickly it faded again and Joe looked away.

"Goodnight, Nicolo," Yusuf said quietly, turning away and Nicolo reacted without thinking, jolting to his feet and grabbing Yusuf's wrist. His toe caught on the chair and the bottle fell but didn't break.

"Yusuf- wait, please," he stuttered. Yusuf looked back at him, eyes wide, darting from his hand to Nicolo's face. "I am sorry."

"You're... you're sorry?"

"I was scared, Yusuf," Nicolo pleaded softly.

"Of me."

"No!" He gasped, squeezing Yusuf's wrist and stepping closer. "No, never again. I was scared of how I feel, how you make me feel. All we have is each other, I don't want to lose that. Because of some... desire."

Yusuf finally faced him, shaking his hand free to touch Nicolo's cheek. It made his eyelids flutter. "This isn't just desire, Nico, this is fate. We were set on this path to find each other, don't you see? Who could denounce that?"

"Where I am from-"

"I'll kill them." Nicolo's pulse skittered again as he saw the sincerity in Yusuf's face. "Anyone who comes between the two of us. When I first dreamed of you I thought... I was meant to kill you. I realise now, I am meant to love you."

Nicolo couldn't find the words to say, never had the tongue for poetry like Yusuf did, so instead he kissed him. It wasn't the frantic meeting of teeth and tongue like before, Yusuf kissed him back slowly, easing him into a kiss so deep and loving Nicolo couldn't feel his legs again. That didn't matter with Yusuf's arm around his waist, holding him up, giving Nicolo the freedom to run his hands through Yusuf's hair that was damp under his fingers.

"You went to the cove," he murmured into the kiss.

Yusuf hummed, kissing his jaw. "I go there to think sometimes. About you."

Nicolo smiled. "My God, you're too much." Yusuf smiled back but his eyebrows draw up as he brushed his thumb over Nicolo's cheek.

"You've tolerated me so far."

"I might be the only one who can. Perhaps that's why we found each other." Yusuf made a soft noise in the back of his throat and kissed Nicolo again, a tang of hunger to it that made his blood hot. They bumped into the doorframe as Yusuf pulled him further inside, tripping over the stone step and laughing quietly into each other. Their kiss was a conversation not a battle, a dance which Yusuf lead from a tender sway to something sensual and tandem. Nicolo had never been kissed like this, hadn't been kissed much at all, Yusuf's lips were the drop of water in a desert that blossomed a garden from nothing. He didn't know he could feel this much until then.

Knocking into the table Nicolo broke the kiss, huffing when Yusuf chased after his lips. "Show me," he breathed, taking in the sweet air between them.

"Show you what?" Yusuf whispered reverently.

"More. Everything."

Yusuf stuttered on a moan, fingers curling into the back of his tunic. "I don't know much. The rest we'll discover together." Nicolo tried to say 'yes' but it was swallowed by Joe's kiss, wet and warm and consuming. The journey to Yusuf's room was stop-and-start between lingering kisses and caresses. By the time Yusuf kicked the door shut behind them his shirt was caught around his neck and Nicolo's trousers caught underneath his buttocks. He struggled out of them, kicking them off to one side as Yusuf wrangled the shirt over his head and cast it in the same direction. They stared at each, breathing hard and taking in the fresh, bare skin that they'd both seen before (living in such close quarters) but never in such a context.

The one who took the first step was Yusuf. Drawn in like an man entranced, as his lips found Nicolo's and his hands caught on the backs of his knees, propelling him back onto the bed. It creaked as Nicolo landed with a yelp, glaring at Yusuf who smiled with a youthful mischievousness. Nicolo's mouth dried up as he reached down and undid his trousers, easing them open and down to the floor leaving his naked. Naked. In the dark, brought light by the moon beyond the window, his body was shadows and blue curves Nicolo followed with his eyes until he saw the dark, hard cock protruding from a nest of black curls. His eyes quickly jumped away to Yusuf's face but Yusuf just smiled at him again and it made Nicolo's heart melt.

He reached out and his hand was immediately captured, Yusuf's fingers lacing through his as he knelt either side of Nicolo's thighs. As he leaned down he pushed their joined hands over their heads and kissed Nicolo with gentle reassurance. With his free hand Nicolo touched his knee, ran his palm up his thigh to its warm apex where the hair turned wiry. The muscles under his hand clenched as he scratched his fingers through the thatch and across Yusuf's belly, cock bumping into Nicolo's wrist.

"Mm, Nico, amore-" Yusuf groaned, nipping the thin skin of his throat. He'd touched himself before, to piss or hurriedly masturbate under the covers. Yusuf's felt just the same as him, smooth but hard and hot in his palm. The angle was strange, like milking a cow was the first thought that his mind came to and made him chuckle. Yusuf hummed an inquisitive noise and Nicolo murmured, "nothing, nothing." For a long moment he just touched Yusuf exploring as he would the texture of a shell from the seafloor, following the veins and curves. Eventually Yusuf whined and shook his head, pushing Nicolo's hand away.

"No, no, not yet," he pleaded softly and Nicolo nodded, touching Yusuf's chest instead and pushing him to lay side-by-side with him. Nicolo kissed the warm skin of Yusuf's throat, damp with salty sweat that he chased the taste of. With every nip, suck and kiss Yusuf made the softest sounds, and ran his hand along Nicolo's side. Once Yusuf's throat was thoroughly gnawed upon Nicolo felt drunk on all the sweet skin.

"il mio amore," he breathed, watching Yusuf's eyelids flutter. He felt Yusuf's palm slide from his hip to the hem of his shirt. They both looked between them as Yusuf tugged Nicolo's shirt over the gentle curve of his belly and gathered both their cocks in his large palm. The sudden friction, Yusuf's cockhead catching on his, forced a gasp from Nicolo and he bucked his hips into the sensation. He heard Yusuf moan distantly and suddenly their bodies were plastered against each other, hot skin sliding as Yusuf rolled his lips.

"Oh-" Nicolo moaned, hooking his leg over Yusuf's and grinding against him. Without the barrier of clothes it felt all the more intense, hotter and wetter as he leaked between Yusuf's fingers. Yusuf buried his face in Nicolo's neck sending another zing of pleasure down his spine as he muffled his own moans. They became some undulating animal, mindless to anything but the heat of one and other. Like a wave cresting and then crashing over him Nicolo came, convulsing, held together only by Yusuf's embrace.

"Nico-Nico-" Yusuf slurred the shuddered, slick grip becoming even slicker and more frantic as he started coming too. Nicolo was boneless by the time he finished, certain he drooled a little onto Yusuf's collarbone and completely unbothered by it. They leaned against each other as they caught their breaths, legs still tangled uselessly. With a deep, contented sigh Yusuf wiped his hand on Nicolo's shirt. A high, hysterical laugh bubbled up from within Nicolo as he peered at their sweaty, sticky bodies, sins of the flesh captured in moonlight and somehow radiant instead of sinful. Yusuf blinked at him as he laughed then he started laughing too, teeth gleaming in the dark. Nicolo's throat felt tight with some overwhelming emotion and he wrapped his arms around Yusuf, hugging him tightly and pulling him against his chest as he lay flat on his back.

"You owe me a new shirt," he mumbled. "And trousers."

Yusuf rested his chin upon Nicolo's chest, warm breath ghosting over his jaw. "I'll find you the finest silk shirt money can by."

"I think I'd prefer to eat than you spend the money on clothing. Linen will do."

"I suppose you're right." Yusuf sighed and shifted closer still, tucking his face under Nicolo's chin. "We'll just ruin them again anyway." Nicolo chuckled and closed his eyes, letting the warmth and security of Yusuf's embrace wash over him and draw him toward sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, i love these two a lot, i might write more we'll see! 
> 
> I'm petrichorus on tumblr come say hi x


End file.
